


That Damn Potter

by Setkia



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 5+1 Things, Abuse, Angst, Book 1: Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, Child Abuse, Dobby's POV, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, POV Outsider
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-17
Updated: 2018-11-29
Packaged: 2019-03-20 08:30:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13713858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Setkia/pseuds/Setkia
Summary: The first time Dobby hears the name ‘Harry Potter’, it’s October 31st and the Young Master Malfoy is crying as Master Malfoy bellows out that ‘Harry bloody Potter is just a fucking child, how the fuck can he kill The Dark Lord?’5 times Dobby heard about Harry Potter, and the first time he met him.





	1. one

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is based off the headcanon that the reason Dobby has heard about the "greatness of Harry Potter" is from Draco himself. I don't own Harry Potter.

_one_

The first time Dobby hears the name ‘Harry Potter’, it’s October 31st and the Young Master Malfoy is crying as Master Malfoy bellows out that ‘Harry bloody Potter is just a fucking child, how the fuck can he kill The Dark Lord?’

Young Master Malfoy begins crying.

‘Someone shut him up! Dobby!’

Dobby scurries as quickly as he can to the Young Master’s side. He has to push a chair closer to the heir’s crib to reach. The pale baby screeches louder when Dobby’s face comes into view. Dobby is use to this.

He pulls the boy to his chest and starts to hum. He doesn’t know any good songs, Master Malfoy doesn’t sing, though Mistress Malfoy does. He tries to remember the tune, but it’s hard over the sounds of Master Malfoy screaming and throwing things around.

The Young Master is crying loudly, soaking Dobby’s sack. Dobby does not flinch. The punishments increase if he flinches. They’ll know, even though they’re nowhere to be seen.

The nursery door opens and in comes Mistress Malfoy. She pulls the Young Master out of Dobby’s arms harshly, tugging him to her chest. He settles down fairly easily.

‘You can not be too loud, Lucius, you are upsetting Draco,’ she tells her husband.

‘You can not honestly be okay with this, can you, Narcissa?’ demands Master Malfoy. ‘This … this _boy_ has killed the strongest wizard to ever walk the earth! This is not a trivial matter—’

‘You have your own son to look after, remember.’ She looks down at the Young Master fondly. ‘You can not dwell on this for too long, Draco needs his sleep—’

‘I should have killed them while I was in school with them,’ says Master Malfoy. ‘This is an outrage! I can not accept this—’

‘Hush, you’ll upset Draco,’ says the Mistress.

‘Harry Potter, a fucking one-year-old child, has destroyed The Dark Lord! How is this even possible? It’s preposterous!’

‘It doesn’t matter whether or not you accept it, dear. It’s the facts. Now please, no more talk about this.’

‘But that damn Potter boy—’

‘ _Lucius_.’

The Master stops speaking.

‘I know it’s all very upsetting, but you can’t let it distract you. You have your own obligations, to _our son_ , unless you’ve forgotten about him already?’

‘I—’

‘I forbid you from speaking Harry Potter’s name in this household again, understand me, Lucius? You have a child of your own to rave about.’

The first time Dobby hears Harry Potter’s name, it is made a forbidden word in the Malfoy household.


	2. two

_two_

  
He’s in the middle of cooking when the owl arrives.

It’s been a week since the Young Master has left for school. The Manor has become quieter, though no less hectic. Strange men have started visiting, and Dobby doesn’t like them, though it’s not as though he can say anything.

‘Oh, it’s Draco’s owl!’

Dobby opens the dining room window, but before he can take the mail from the bird’s beak, Master Malfoy is shooing his hand away and telling him to shut his ears in the oven doors for trying to touch something of the Young Master’s.

Mistress Malfoy is joyful as she opens the letter and grins. She reads it aloud, and Dobby hears between the heat of the oven and the pain in his ears—

_‘That Potter brat decided the Weasels were better than the Malfoys, the twat!’_

Dobby nearly pauses in his punishment.

Potter? Where does he know that name?

The letter goes on to talk about the Young Master’s first night at Hogwarts, boasting about his Slytherin placement, and how he’s gotten the best bed in the dormitories. Dobby hears bits and pieces of it, though he can’t say for sure the entire contents of the letter with the way the oven is starting to affect his hearing.

Harry Potter.

That’s a name Dobby hasn’t heard in a very long time.

He tries to connect it to something, because he knows it’s familiar. But he’s not sure why.

And then he remembers that night. Halloween ten years ago, when it was first said. When The Young Master kept crying and the Mistress forbade the Master from saying the words ‘Harry Potter’ again.

Ah yes. Him.

Dobby doesn’t know much about him, but, if he remembers correctly, he defeated the Dark Lord, somehow.

Dobby expects he’ll be hearing about Harry Potter more in the future.


	3. three

_three_

  
He’s right, though it’s not until Christmas that the name is spoken again.

The Young Master returns for the holidays and throws his trunk at Dobby, who flails to catch it. He kicks off his boots and grumbles, demanding Dobby follow him to his room. All the way up the stairs, he keeps muttering about broomsticks.

It’s during dinner, as Dobby places the food on the table, that the Young Master demands his own.

‘You know the rules, Draco darling, first years aren’t allowed broomsticks—’

‘Potter’s got a broomstick,’ says the Young Master sourly. His pointy face is even more pointed as he crosses his arms. ‘And he’s a half-blood piece of scum! I deserve a broomstick!’

Mistress bites her lip. ‘Does he?’

‘He’s on the Quidditch team! The prick is on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, and he didn’t even have to try out! Why’s he got a broom and I haven’t?’

‘Draco—’

‘He’s got a bloody Nimbus 2000! _I_ need a Nimbus—’

_SMACK!_

‘Lucius!’

The Young Master’s jaw is tightly clenched, and there’s a flourish of red blossoming on his pale cheek. Dobby can see the way the blond’s hands are trembling as he holds the silverware.

The Mistress is around him in a moment, shielding him from the Master. ‘Dobby, get him some ice.’

Dobby blinks. What is happening?

‘Please Dobby, now.’ The Mistress looks like she’s crying and her voice is so soft, Dobby moves without thinking.

The Young Master doesn’t say Harry Potter’s name again for the rest of the trip.


	4. four

_four_

  
Young Master Malfoy is coming home soon. Dobby has spent the past weeks cleaning his room, making sure it’s spotless.

There are more letters from him. Master never reads them, he gives them to Mistress Malfoy, who reads them carefully and keeps them in her bedside drawer.

Dobby is sorting through the Malfoy’s library when the latest letter comes in.

The strange men are always here now. The library is being prepped for another one of their strange meetings. Dobby only hears pieces of them, before he’s shooed away. He can tell the Mistress doesn’t like them.

She opens the letter and when she’s done, she’s crying.

‘Oh, Draco,’ she gasps. ‘Draco …’

She walks unsteadily to the fireplace and falls to her knees in front of the hearth. Dobby moves out of the way, watches as she trembles, lifting her wand. She places the letter in the pit, and Dobby sees it.

_Potter fought a troll, did I mention?_

_Potter won the cup, the bastard._

_Potter’s house got more house points._

_Potter looks stupid in his clothes that don’t fit him._

_Potter flies stupidly on his broom._

_Potter’s glasses are ridiculous, I should break them._

_Potter needs better friends than the Weasel and the Mudblood._

_Potter looks stupid when he eats, like he doesn’t know how to stop._

_Potter falls asleep in class all the time and people think he’s special?_

_Potter blew up a potion and Uncle Snape got mad at him._

_Potter looked hilarious when he was embarrassed._

_Potter ate the Snitch, I think that’s cheating._

_Potter’s best-buddies with Dumbledore, it’s sickening._

_Potter, Potter, Potter, Potter, PotterPotterPotterPotterBLOODYHARRYPOTTER._

And then the paper’s on fire.

All evidence is gone.

Master enters the room and frowns when he sees his wife on the floor, wiping away tears.

‘Something happen?’ he asks.

‘No.’

‘Did Draco write?’

Mistress shakes her head. ‘No.’

Lucius nods curtly. ‘They will be here soon. Dobby, get out of my sight.’

Dobby goes.


	5. five

_five_

  
The Young Master is back for the summer.

He opens his mouth to say something and from the shape his lips are taking, Dobby knows it begins with a ‘P’, but Mistress looks at him and he stops.

That night, the Mistress takes Dobby with her to tuck the Young Master into bed. As she goes to turn off the light, he speaks up.

‘Mother?’

‘Yes, Darling?’

‘You never answered my last letter. Did it get lost?’

Mistress frowns. ‘No.’

‘So you read it?’

‘Yes, I did.’

The Young Master frowns. ‘So why didn’t you answer?’

‘Draco, I think we need to talk.’

The Young Master sits up in his bed. He looks so small in the large bed, like it’s overtaking him, swallowing him whole. ‘What about?’

‘Your father …’ The Mistress is frowning as she sits on the foot of the Young Master’s bed. ‘Draco, you shouldn’t … you shouldn’t talk about _him_ very much.’

‘Who?’

‘Harry Potter.’

The Young Master’s nose wrinkles. ‘I don’t.’

‘Oh Draco, do you not know?’ Mistress Malfoy runs her fingers through her son’s hair, pulling him closer. She holds him with a hand on his head, the other wrapped around his body, like she’s shielding him from the world. ‘You … you mentioned him a lot in your letter.’

‘He annoys me, is that wrong?’ The Young Master asks, tilting his head slightly.

Dobby thinks they’ve forgotten he’s here. It isn’t the first time and he knows it won’t be the last.

‘Draco, you can’t …. It’s complicated, but it’s better if you don’t talk about him that much around your father.’

‘Does he annoy Father as well?’

Mistress sighs and holds the Young Master closer to her chest. Dobby thinks he’s suffocating. ‘Oh Draco, life is going to be so hard for you … I wish I could make it better, I really do.’

‘Is everything okay, Mother?’

Mistress doesn’t answer. She’s trembling, shaking. She kisses the crown of her son’s head. ‘Don’t … if you want to talk about Harry Potter, don’t speak to your father about it. Tell me. Or Dobby. Just not your father. Never say his name to your father, you understand?’

‘Yes Mother,’ says the Young Master, but he’s frowning. ‘But—’

‘Please, just promise me that.’

‘I promise.’

‘Good.’ She kisses him one last time on the forehead. ‘Have a good night.’

She motions for Dobby to follow her, but then pauses. ‘Dobby, stay with Draco. He wants to tell you something.’

Once the door closes behind her, it’s like a flood gate has opened. He hears about Harry Potter so much, about the way he plays Quidditch, and his stupid ginger best friend, who should really be Draco, because he offered to be his friend and the idiot had rejected him. He hears about the Mudblood with the bushy hair and the buck teeth who hangs around them. He hears about the duel Draco proposed, but had chickened out of because of course, what was he thinking? He hears about the way Potter isn’t all that smart and how Harry has the greenest eyes Draco’s ever seen that looking at the Slytherin tie around his neck every day is like looking right at Harry, and his stupid glasses make him so stupid but at the same time, it kind of works? And Harry’s got the messiest hair he’s ever seen and it looks so soft.

He hears about how brave and bold Harry was to take on the troll and Dobby doesn’t know if the Young Master’s noticed, but he’s dropped the Potter and suddenly the boy is _Harry_ and he seems like a real human being, something more than just a name, more than just a legend, he seems tangible, touchable, someone you could reach out and feel with your hands.

And the Young Master’s eyes sparkle in a way he’s never seen and he wonders if the Young Master knows he’s been speaking for hours and hours and Dobby can barely keep his eyes open when he’s finally allowed to leave.


	6. bonus

_bonus_

  
When Dobby sees Harry Potter for the first time, he seems so _normal_ , he can’t possibly be the person he’s heard about for so long.

Over the summer, the Young Master has continuously spoken about Harry Potter at length, but there’s a strategy to it now. All mean words are directed at his father, all the ones that dare dip into something _different_ are aimed at Dobby and the Mistress.

Now he sees the boy sitting on a garden bench, singing _Happy Birthday_ to himself in a solemn voice. He understands why, it is Dobby’s fault after all. Does anyone know that this is where the Boy Who Lived goes when he is not at school? Dobby and Harry Potter are quite similar, stuck with people who are not very nice, but bound to them regardless.

He feels bad that Harry Potter is not going to get to see his friends this year, but Dobby must do what Dobby must.

He hides in Harry Potter’s room until the young wizard comes upstairs. It is up close that Dobby recalls what Young Master Malfoy had said about him.

Dobby doesn’t understand the whole bit about _emerald eyes and hair the colour of a raven and a voice that does weird things to the stomach_ , because he looks rather ordinary to him, but Dobby sees the scar underneath his fringe and knows he’s in the presence of a powerful wizard.

‘Er— hello.’

‘Harry Potter!’ Dobby says, unable to contain his excitement. This is the one who defeated the Dark Lord. It’s such a shame Dobby has to do as he does. ‘So long has Dobby wanted to meet you, sir … Such an honour it is …’

‘Th-thank you,’ says Harry Potter, sitting down in his chair. ‘Who are you?’

‘Dobby, sir. Just Dobby. Dobby the house-elf.’

‘Oh— really? Er— I don’t want to be rude or anything, but — this isn’t a great time for me to have a house-elf in my bedroom.’ Oh… ‘Not that I’m not pleased to see you,’ Ah! ‘But, er, is there any particular reason you’re here?’

‘Oh, yes, sir,’ says Dobby. ‘Dobby has come to tell you, sir … it is difficult, sir … Dobby wonders where to begin …’

‘Sit down,’ says Harry Potter, gesturing to a chair.

Dobby can’t stop the tears from forming, and soon he’s wailing. _‘S-sit down! Never … never ever …’_

‘I’m sorry,’ whispers the Chosen One. ‘I didn’t mean to offend you or anything—’

‘Offend Dobby!’ He sniffles, trying to find words, but struggling to breathe through his tears. ‘Dobby has _never_ been asked to sit down by a wizard— like an _equal_ —’

He lets himself be moved to the bed, trying to control himself and failing as Harry Potter gives him a place to sit. He understands what Young Master Malfoy was talking about now. Dobby understands.

‘You can’t have met many decent wizards,’ says Harry Potter.

Dobby shakes his head, but then he remembers Young Master Malfoy and Mistress Malfoy who are not all that terrible and sometimes only hit him twenty times when he should be hit forty, so he punishes himself as he should, banging is head against the window.

‘Don’t— what are you doing?’ asks the Boy Who Lived, who seems to be alarmed by Dobby’s shouting. The resting bird has begun to screech as well.

‘Dobby has to punish himself, sir,’ Dobby explains. ‘Dobby almost spoke ill of his family, sir …’

Family is such a rotten word, Dobby decides. Harry Potter’s family is awful, the Master Malfoy is terrible. He doesn’t care much for family, but living a life of solitude with the Malfoys makes him obedient as he should be.

‘Your family?’

‘The wizard family Dobby serves, sir … Dobby is a house elf— bound to serve one house and one family forever.’

‘Do they know you’re here?’

Dobby shudders. ‘Oh, no, sir, no … Dobby will have to punish himself most grievously for coming to see you, sir. Dobby will have to shut his ears in the oven door for this. If they ever knew, sir—’

‘But won’t they notice if you shut your ears in the oven door?’

Harry Potter sounds like he’s worried, for _Dobby._ It’s odd.

‘Dobby doubts it, sir. Dobby is always having to punish himself for something, sir. They lets Dobby get on with it, sir. Sometimes they remind me to do extra punishments …’

‘But why don’t you leave? Escape?’

Dobby understands how little Harry Potter knows about the wizarding world now. ‘A house-elf must be set free, sir. And the family will never set Dobby free … Dobby will serve the family until he dies, sir …’

‘And I thought I had it bad staying here for another four weeks. This makes the Dursleys sound almost human. Can’t anyone help you? Can’t I?’

Dobby does not cry often when asked to do things by the Masters of the house, but today he is feeling emotional. He knows how to deal with brutality and harsh words, but kindness is foreign to him.

‘Please, please be quiet. If the Dursleys hear something, if they know you’re here—’

‘Harry Potter asks if he can help Dobby … Dobby has heard of your greatness, sir, but of your goodness, Dobby never knew …’

‘Whatever you heard about my greatness is a load of rubbish. I’m not even top of my year at Hogwarts; that’s Hermione, she—‘

‘Harry Potter is humble and modest,’ Dobby says in awe. ‘Harry Potter speaks not of his triumph over He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named—’

‘Voldemort?’

‘Ah!’ Dobby slams his hands against his ears. ‘Speak not the name, sir! Speak not the name!’

‘Sorry. I know lots of people don’t like it. My friend Ron—’

Harry Potter is quiet.

‘Dobby heard tell, that Harry Potter met the Dark Lord just weeks ago … that Harry Potter escaped _yet again_.’When The Boy Who Lived nods, Dobby is amazed that Young Master Malfoy did not lie to him. ‘Ah, sir, Harry Potter is valiant and bold!’ He wipes his tear-stained face on the rags of his pillowcase, trying to gather some composure in the face of he who defeated the Dark Lord not once, but _twice_. ‘He has braved so many dangers already! But Dobby has come to protect Harry Potter, to warn him, even if he does have to shut his ears in the oven door later … _Harry Potter must not go back to Hogwarts._ ’

‘W-what?’ Harry Potter asks, and Dobby feels very bad about what he must do, but it is for the best. Master Malfoy has been plotting, and Dobby cannot let harm come to The Chosen One. Meeting him has only strengthened his resolve. ‘But I’ve got to go back— term starts on September first. It’s all that’s keeping me going. You don’t know what it’s like here. I don’t _belong_ here. I belong in your world— at Hogwarts.’

‘No, no, no,’ Dobby says and it hurts him to say it because he is not used to saying no, and because Harry Potter is _right_ , but Dobby cannot let him do this. ‘Harry Potter must stay where he is safe. He is too great, too good, to lose. If Harry Potter goes back to Hogwarts, he will be in mortal danger.’

‘Why?’

‘There is a plot, Harry Potter. A plot to make most terrible things happen at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry this year. Dobby has known it for months, sir. Harry Potter must not put himself in peril. He is too important, sir!’

‘What terrible things? Who’s plotting them?’

Oh no. He’s said too much. He knows Harry Potter does not like his Masters, and to find out that he knows because he is the house-elf of the Malfoys, he will disregard everything Dobby has said. He begins to bang his head against the wall when Harry Potter grabs him and the force is not as violent as it is when the other Masters touch him, it is almost gentle.

‘All right! You can’t tell me. I understand. But why are you warning _me_? Hang on— this hasn’t go anything to do with Vol— sorry— with You-Know-Who, has it? You could just shake or nod.’

It’s more complicated than that, but Dobby can’t speak for fear of saying too much so he hesitates and then shakes his head.

‘Not— not _He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named_ , sir—’

‘He hasn’t got a brother, has he?’

Dobby shakes his head again.

‘Well then, I can’t think of who else would have a chance of making horrible things happen at Hogwarts. I mean there’s Dumbledore, for one thing— you know who Dumbledore is, don’t you?’

Dobby bows. ‘Albus Dumbledore is the greatest headmaster Hogwarts has ever had. Dobby knows it, sir. Dobby has heard Dumbledore’s powers rival those of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named at the height of his strength. But, sir,’ Dobby drops his voice, remembering that there are others in the house, ‘there are powers Dumbledore doesn’t … powers no decent wizard …’

No. Bad. He jumps off the bed, seizing the closest item he can find, being the Chosen One’s desk lamp, and striking himself in the head.

He vaguely hears someone say something about a television and then Harry Potter grabs him and stuffs him into the closet.

What enfolds before him is terrifying. A large man without a neck comes in through the door and starts yelling. Harry Potter stands there, unmoving and silent. Dobby hates the idea of leaving Harry Potter to stay with these people, but he does not have a choice.

‘See what it’s like here? See why I’ve got to go back to Hogwarts? It’s the only place I’ve got— well, I _think_ I’ve got friends.’

‘Friends who don’t even write to Harry Potter?’

‘I expect they’ve just been— wait a minute.’ Oh no. ‘How do _you_ know my friends haven’t been writing to me?’

‘Harry Potter mustn’t be angry with Dobby. Dobby did it for the best—’

_‘Have you been stopping my letters?’_

‘Dobby has them here sir.’ He pulls them out of his pillowcase. He doesn’t quite know what they say, he can’t read very well, but they tell a very nice story of Harry Potter, who is neither the idol that Young Master Malfoy has spoken of, neither the terror that Master Malfoy has spoken of. He is neither the middle-ground that are described in the letters.

‘Harry Potter mustn’t be angry … Dobby hoped … if Harry Potter thought his friends had forgotten him … Harry Potter might not want to go back to school, sir …’

Dobby does not know a lot about little boys, but he knows what he has learnt from Young Master Malfoy, who gets very excited when owls arrive for him.

Harry Potter moves forward, but Dobby jumps away.

‘Harry Potter will have them, sir, if he gives Dobby his word that he will not return to Hogwarts. Ah, sir, this is a danger you must not face. Say you won’t go back, sir!’

‘No.’

Harry Potter is honest.

‘Give me my friends’ letters!’

‘Then Harry Potter leaves Dobby no choice.’

Dobby does feel bad as he pulls the bedroom door open and sprints down the stairs. He ignores the sounds of people in the room over as he stops in front of a large pudding. It reminds him of parties at the Manor that are unpleasant and he has always wanted to destroy one of these things. He lets it lift from its place.

‘No,’ Harry Potter says. He sounds normal. Like a boy. Dobby does feel bad. ‘Please … they’ll kill me …’

‘Harry Potter must say he’s not going back to school—’

‘Dobby … please …’

‘Say it, sir—’

‘I can’t—’

‘Then Dobby must do it, sir, for Harry Potter’s own good.’

The pudding falls to the ground.

Dobby does not stay around to hear the aftermath, instead Apparating back to the Manor and shutting his ears in the oven door, as promised.

Harry Potter truly _is_ remarkable, though.


End file.
